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Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
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Yesterday is but today's memory, tomorrow is today's dream.
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They deem me mad for I will not sell my days for gold; I deem them mad for they think my days have a price.
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Love is knowing the pain of too much tenderness.
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For what are posessions but things we guard for fear we might need them tomorrow?
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Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky. We fell them down and turn them into paper that we may record our emptiness.
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Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolutions.
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Yes, there is a Nirvanah; it is leading your sheep to a green pasture, and in putting your child to sleep, and in writing the last line of your poem.
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It is slavery to live in the mind unless it has become part of the body.
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You give little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
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And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter and the sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.
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It is well to give when asked but it is better to give unasked, through understanding.
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I have learnt silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers.
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Marriage is the golden ring in a chain, whose beginning is a glance and whose ending is eternity.
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The significance of a man is not in what he attains, but rather what he longs to attain.
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And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
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Say not, 'I have found the truth,' but rather, 'I have found a truth.'
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If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.
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Generosity is giving more than you can, and pride is taking less than you need.
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And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your fields and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
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You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
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I am one of those who believe that spiritual progress is a rule of human life, but the approach to perfection is slow and painful. If a woman elevates herself in one respect and is retarded in another, it is because the rough trail that leads to the mountain peak is not free of ambushes of thieves and lairs of wolves.
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You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might also pray in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.
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The lights of stars that were extinguished ages ago still reaches us. So it is with great men who died centuries ago, but still reach us with the radiations of their personalities.
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If you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work.
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